The Dark is Rising The After Years
by Dartmund Barad
Summary: It's the usual characters, the usual plot. Dark vs. Light. But still, mine shows emotion, and all of that crap.
1. Default Chapter

Prologue  
  
"Come back," yearned Jane. She reached out to the figure infront of her, which was moving away slowly. "I don't want to leave you," she said, her eyes watery. "Be proud of yourselves, as I am proud of you," said the figure. He wore a robe, light blue, with the hood over the man's head, shadowing most features of his face. The man's face was not fully shadowed, some features were still visible. He had a furry, grey moustache, which was on the verge of leaping over his crusty mouth. The man moved away from Jane, towering over the hills. He raised his arm, fingers out - wide. A wind shook her. She turned her head, seeing a familiar figure. A young boy, around Jane's age and height, yet his facial movements were showing something different, as if he were older inside than out. The man in the robe turned, split his fingers out, and walked away. Before Jane could see anything else, the man vanished into the hazy clouds.  
  
The wind was stronger now, urging the group to sway, to and fro, not making any upper body movements. Jane's hair was now launching into the atmosphere. She could not move, her mind was not in authority, it was some other force, not able to summarise. Will called to them, though if the wind were not driving towards Jane, she would not have heard. "Follow me!" he clamoured. He pushed to the edge of the miniature plateau, and then she saw the other two figures that were with her. They were both male, and also, like Will, roughly the same age as her. "Barney! Simon! Hurry! You too Jane!" Although Jane was just beside him, Will made it look as though they were all behind apart from him. Suddenly, lightning struck them, so toilsome that the earth itself shrieked. It shuddered Jane from head to toe, which pounded at her vigorously. It hew at her. She howled, like no-one that anyone could ever have heard. It was a mix between a wolf and a mother giving birth. Will grasped his ears and fell to his knees. Jane's eyes quivered. She was knocked down, her head hit the floor first.  
  
She woke up, sweat streaming off her face. Jane opened her eyes, seeing a blazing illumination. Four figures were leaning over her, silhouetted like shadows. As her eyesight focused, she saw two familiar figures, and two strange ones. The two that she recognised were her brothers, Barney and Simon, and there were the other two, who were very notorious. One was tall, the one who wore the robe who Jane beseeched to stay, and there was the other young one, the same age as Jane, brown hair and hazel eyes. "Jane, you're alright now, it was just a dream." The grey haired superior was leaning most now, when Jane realised that she was still in her gown. "Get up, Jane." He reached out his hand, and Jane clutched it, hauling herself off her bed. "Are you alright, Jane?" asked Simon. He patted her palm, sympathising with her. "Do you remember me, Jane?" The towering figure rose. "I am Merriman Lyon, or as you remember most - Great Uncle Merry." Jane looked down, as if trying to remember. "Great Uncle Merry." She held out her tongue, concentrating hard. "Great Uncle Merry." It was as though she was tasting the words. "Gumerry.....?" Merriman smiled. "Yes," he replied.  
  
"You know me as Gummery, or Great Uncle Merry. I am one of many Old Ones, as is Will here." He raised his hand and pointed to Will. "Think back, I shall restore part of your memory." Jane looked at Merriman, then to Will. She looked up, down, left and right as her memory was restored. The first word that came out of her mouth surprised everyone, even herself. "Gummery." Merriman looked at her. She said it again, "Gummery." Her eyes fluttered once more, as in her dream. She fell to the ground, her legs flailing. "She has it back." Will glanced at Merriman, eyebrows sarcastically raised. "She has what back?" he asked. "What she always should have," answered Merriman. "She has her memory back." 


	2. The Old Ones

The Old Ones  
  
In the back garden on the Stantons' household, a deteriorated storehouse was placed, unevenly and it was not in place. It jutted out of the garden like a mole. The wood was decaying, it was drab and expired. A miniature light was shining, glowing inside the small oak room. Four figures loomed, in and out, like ghosts portrayed on the walls. One tall figure stood there, rising above the other three, who were sitting, as small as children. The older and taller figure spoke to them, grave and rich. They were concentrating at the tall man, as if he was teaching and lecturing them. They were cramped into the small compartment, as tall as the man was, he had to angle his back, as not to bang his head on the ceiling. "The Old Ones," started Merriman, "are of the Light. We are a company of special people, here to stop the Dark from taking over the Earth with their corruptness." He rolled his tongue over his teeth, bathing them in his saliva. "We have completed out main task. We rid the Earth of the Dark, we cut the blossom from the tree, we activated the spell. And although this happened, Bran was not in full power of the spell. It was de-activated as soon as he left this time, back to his own, with his father - King Arthur of the Round Table." Merriman sloped over to Jane, the only girl of the three children, and set his hand on her shoulder. "I know that you know all of this." He looked into her eyes. She nodded in agreement. "I know what you're talking about, Gummery," replied Jane. "Tell me something that I don't know," she said. Merriman concurred. "I agree, you need to know. All of you need to know." Merriman stood up, looming over the three children in the small shack, which was placed oddly in the Stantons' garden. "When Bran left us, we thought that we were safe. The prophecy had begun to act, the World was safe again, as in King Arthur's reign." The light from the lantern shone around the insignificant shed, illuminating the children's face. "But when Bran cut the silver from the tree, he did not know what he was doing. He cut it because he thought it was proper, he thought it was his right to do it. He was dreadfully wrong." Merriman sat back down on his small stool, and took his hand off Jane's shoulder.  
  
"Bran's spell didn't work too well. Yes, the Dark was vanquished, and they were taken out of Time itself." Jane sighed. Merriman looked specifically at her, staring at her with his crisp eyes. "As I was saying," he started again. "Bran could not defeat the Dark once and for all. That is why I call upon you, Jane." Her eyes widened. Simon gasped, turning his head at his sister. "Jane, my girl. I know that the last few years have been hard on you, but I need you again. Again, for one last chance to wipe out the Dark."  
Jane glared coldly at Merriman. Suddenly, she stood up, pointing at her Great Uncle. "You! How dare you!? You have tormented me, made me think over my whole life, just so that we can beat these damned people!" Jane lowered her arm, yet her stare was as icy as it was before. "I let you use me as a pawn in your little game, and my whole life has changed, just because of this." She sighed. "I thought we beat them. I was happy, we all were happy. Not happy because our world was saved, but because this whole ordeal had ended! I want no part of this!" She turned around and reached for the door. "Jane, Will was not the last Old One. He was actually one of the Oldest of the Old. You, Jane of the Stanton's, are also not the last, but of this era, you are the Youngest." Merriman was standing as Jane turned around, and his facial features were as angry yet as modest as they could be. "Jane Drew, I need you. We need you." Jane turned back to the door, opened it and stepped out. Simon stood up and lunged at her as she left, but she was too swift for her, she had left. "Leave her," said Merriman. "It is her choice, not yours and not mine. Let us just hope that she chooses well." Barney, who had been quiet for a long time now, spoke. "Gummery, I think I know how she feels." He walked towards his Great Uncle, hands in pockets. The shack was surprisingly large, about the size of a garage. He walked around it, head down, thinking. He spoke again. "I felt the same, for a short while. I didn't know what to feel, I thought that I was being played. I wasn't sure about what to do..." Barney fumbled around for words. "I felt as though ... I wasn't real anymore, my whole world fell upside down." Merriman sighed. "Take your hands out of your pockets, boy, it's manners." Abruptly, Barney removed his hands from his pockets. "You have to believe, Barney." He turned to Simon. "And you too, Simon, my boy. You must trust me, trust Will. Have faith in the Light, and do not fear the Dark." He walked towards the door. "I must be going now, I need to talk to your sister." He seized the doorknob, and twisted. As the door opened, an immense wind struck the hovel, and it struck the door off it's hinges. "Jane!" Merriman cried out of the boundary of the shed. Barney walked towards the door. "I do hope she is alright." Merriman held onto Barney's shoulders, shook them, and spoke to him. "Barney, have faith." After he spoke, he departed from the group. "He's gone into the storm!" cried Simon. Barney re-spoke the words that his Great Uncle Merry had spoke to him. "Have faith."  
  
Merriman forced at the attacking wind, water streaming across his face from the precipitation. "Jane!" shouted Merriman, as he fought back the storm. He was getting close to the house now, the conservatory was now only a few feet away from him. He lunged at the handle, but the wind pushed back at him. Will became visible from the kitchen door, which lead into the glass room that overlooked the lawn. He mouthed a few words, which were not understandable to Merriman as he beat down the strong breeze. He waved his arms in the air wildly, and he was obviously losing the battle. Will's eyes widened. A dark figure loomed behind the Old One, and it came out to be the White Rider. He raised his sword in triumph, and pointed it down to Merriman's head. He screamed in victory, and let fly his powerful blade. Suddenly, Jane appeared from the conservatory doors, wearing a robe. She closed them behind her, and chanted some sacred words. "Among the dead, the White shall become." As she said this, the White Rider screeched in agony, rousing his arms. Jane walked towards him, with suspicious ease as the storm had not extinguished. She raised her arms, and as she did this, her pupils turned grey, and her hair flew up like flames. The White Rider fell onto his back, and as he did this, he disappeared.  
  
The wind diminished, leaving Merriman completely fatigued. Jane walked towards him. "I'm sorry, Gummery. I didn't mean what I said ..." she pointed over to the shack, where she had insulted her Great Uncle. "Jane!" cried her brother - Simon, who came out of the wooden hut, running. "What happened? Are you alright?" questioned Barney.  
"I'm fine, thanks," declared Jane. She turned again to Merriman. "Gummery, can you forgive me?" Merriman smiled, gazing at Jane. "Of course, my child. I can never be irate with you." He turned to Will. "Ah, my young apprentice." He placed his fingers on his chin, stroking his hairs, as if thinking. "What were you trying to tell me?" His eyebrows creased.  
  
"The White Rider. Could you not see him?" Will gazed at Merriman, as if judging him. As he said this, the Stantons came out of the house. "What are you doing out here? Were you out here in the storm?"  
Merriman turned to Mrs. Stanton, who asked the question. "No, we were in the shed." He turned to it, and pointed. He was distracted by the constant gaze of Will. He turned to him, suspiciously. "What ..." started Will, but then he stopped. "Don't worry, mum. We're all fine." She went back into the house, leaving the door open.  
"I think I'm losing my senses, Will." Merriman, lowered his head, so he was looking at his apprentice. "That is why Jane is needed. You shall be the master, and she your apprentice." Will turned to Jane, and he raised his eyebrows. She smiled back at him. "Jane Drew, you are an Old One. Will Stanton, you are now a Lord of the Light." 


	3. The Last of the Old

The Last of the Old  
  
The lightning struck vigorously, trees were burning at it's powerful blade. The sky was dark, as dark as soil. The usual velvety night sky had vanished, and was replaced with a immense, lifeless wall, yet it was streaming out with huge burst of electric pulses, flying out of the sky, and falling down to Gaia. The Stanton household were all perched in the living room, all drinking hot chocolate beverages, all except for one. Will Stanton was upstairs in his bedroom, sitting on his bed, talking to his ex-master, Merriman, and the Drews. His room was quite neat, yet some clothes were on the floor, or ontop of the drawers. Some chairs were placed around the room, and on four of them were placed the children and the Lord of the Old Ones. "Will, I know that this position is a firm one, but the prophecy states that you must be the one who leads the Light to victory against the Dark. You are the Last Lord of the Light. Do you accept?" Simon and Barney turned their heads towards Merriman as he spoke this, but Jane stared constantly at Will, observant of his emotions. Will looked around the room, from Merriman, to Barney and Simon, and last to Jane. As he looked at her, she turned her gaze away, embarrassed. He turned back to Merriman. "I accept."  
  
Another tree struck on fire. There were branches everywhere, ablaze and ignited. Trees were on every side of the Stantons' house. Two lights were on in the residence, one in Will's miniature room, and one from the front room. The Stantons were still squatting in their seats, some talking to one another, some just sitting there. "How long do you think it will last?" asked Barbara. She held her cocoa in her hands, both were gripping onto her mug. James replied to her question, when he noted that no-one else answered her. "I don't know. I don't think anyone knows." Abruptly, Merriman came down the stairs, wearing a drawn out, grey attire. After him came Simon, wearing a green, woollen fleece, then Barney came, also wearing a fleece, but it was crimson. Jane marched down the stairs, displaying a dress, or some kind of garb. Last came Will Stanton, the Last Lord of the Old. They walked towards the door, Merriman was first, and Will last, forming a small line, so that the most powerful members of the group were at each end. "Where are you going at this time of night, and in this weather!?" inquired Stephen. He had come back from the Marines for the Easter holiday, to spend time with his family. He did this almost every year, and he came back on most holidays, even Bank Holidays. He was based in Portsmouth, in the Second division. "We're just going out," replied Barney. Merriman growled back at him, then to the family. Mr. Stanton looked at him suspiciously. "As Stephen said, in this weather!?" Merriman sighed. He raised his arm at the Stantons, who were sitting at their seats and only some of them were drinking, most of them had finished their cocoa. They stared blankly at him. He muttered some words at them, then opened the door to the great winds.  
  
"What did you do to them?" asked Simon. Merriman turned to him, and then turned back. Will answered for him. "He just froze them, only for a short while, but they don't know what happened." He looked at Jane, which he had been doing a lot in those few days. He turned away to his usual direction. Barney turned to his brother. "Freaky," he said. Simon spun quizzically to his brother. "Freaky? The past few years have been freaky, Barney." They looked at each other. Barney nodded in acknowledgement. They walked for almost five minutes, always glancing around dubiously. It seemed that only Merriman knew what they were going to do, or where they were going to go. Even his right hand man, Will, didn't know where they were going. He knew only to trust his master. Suddenly, a figure, tall and broad, approached them. Merriman turned in caution, then as he saw the man's face, he straightened, and embraced him. "Captain Toms," he said. He opened his arms wide, reaching towards his friend. "Merriman, my friend. How are you?" They gripped each other, and patted each other on the back. "I'm fine, Captain," declared Merriman. "I know why I'm here, Merry. And I know why you are." Merriman hesitated, then spoke. "Good, that saves us some time."  
  
They marched towards the burning trees, which were clumped in a enormous pile. "This is it," declared Merriman. "You must be knighted here, where the trees burn." He recited a poem, like clues to the future. "The knighting of the Old in front of the burning line," he echoed the poem from the back of his mind. Will turned to his old Master. "What do I have to do?" Merriman looked at him, bent down on one knee, and spoke. "You must walk into the fire, followed by the apprentice assigned to you." He could feel Will tremble in fear, shaking. He turned to the Drews, mainly Jane, who was in the middle of both of her brothers. She turned away and walked hence. "Jane..." started Will, but Merriman raised his hand, as to stop him from carrying on. Merry walked towards Jane, but as he closed in on her, she tramped faster, as if in chase. Merriman caught her arm, and as she felt him, she struggled, trying to get out of his grip. Tears dripped from her eyes, her mouth crippled. "Jane, why do you fear the fire? Have I ever given you reason not to trust me?" She blushed, embarrassed. "No...." She turned her head to look at Merriman. He smiled, and held out his hand. She clutched it, and they walked back to the ignited trees. Captain Toms greeted them as they came back. He turned to Jane, and spoke softly to her. "I know how you feel, I was knighted also with my master. I was so afraid." He tried to sympathise with his young companion, and then he rotated to his usual stance. He took out his pipe, and filled it with some substance, probably tobacco. He lit it, and took a long puff. Will walked towards the fire, burning blissfully. He uttered quietly to his apprentice, "Just trust me."  
  
He reached out for her hand, and gripped it tightly. They walked towards the ablaze trees, and it seemed that they burnt in the fire. Barney and Simon both gasped, and ran towards the fire, screeching. Merriman held out his arm, to stop them. "They are fine," he consoled them. It was a touching moment, both in fear and hope. Fear that both Will Stanton, a good friend for some time, and Jane, their sister, was dead. But also hope, hope that what their Great Uncle Merry was telling the truth, and that they would emerge from the fire, and that they would not be hurt. 


End file.
